Itiner
by The Shadows of My Mind
Summary: Post World War Two, former Nazi prisoner Erik Lehnsherr decides he wants to take matters into his own hands, and hunt down the men who tortured him and his family. It is on the way to killing one of these men when he happens upon Charles, a child left an orphan by the War. When he realizes the boy has talents such as his own, Erik knows he can't leave the boy alone.
1. Kingston Upon Hull

_The city of Kingston upon Hull was demolished. No other word could cover the sheer destruction wrought by the recent bombings. As a port town, it was a dangerous beacon for the Germans during the war. Restoration had been put on hold in favor of the continuation of the war effort. It was only now, in December of 1945, that people had begun to trickle back in and re-build what was left of their homes._

The sun was setting, casting long shadows among the skeletal houses. Two men huddled around a low flame, hands extended towards the minimal warmth it let off. One turned away, fiddling with a small, warped steel ring.

"I can't get it to light." He grunted. The other looked up and frowned before leaning in to assess the problem.

A stranger appeared, his blackened figure silhouetted by the setting sun. Both drifters however, were too focused on their task and completely oblivious to his presence; to the slight twitch of his hands. Sparks suddenly flew up from the steel ring, lighting one of the men's beards on fire.

"Shit!" He cried out, desperately trying to beat out the fire. The other jumped up to help him, frantically reaching out as the smell of burning hair was picked up by the wind.

The stranger kept walking, his shark like grin scaring off any who took notice of him. He couldn't have anyone distracting him, not when he was so close to his goal. He'd been following the man for months, and he wasn't about to lose track of him now that he was almost on top of him. He could still hear the two men shouting behind him, cursing loudly into the cool evening.

"Idiots…" He muttered, glancing around before adjusting his bag. He winced as the guns inside shifted and clanked together, making a mental note to clean everything and put it away properly when he stopped for the night. But there was still a long way to go before then.

He pulled out his map of the area and studied it a moment before nodding and quickly stuffing it back into his pocket. He could make it to the next town over if nothing got in his way. He took a brief pause to look around the barren town, shaking his head in disappointment. These people had done nothing to deserve the tragedy, and yet the bombs had found them rather than some important city or munitions factory.

Shaking himself out of his thoughts, Erik started down the street again, head tucked against the growing wind. He stepped out into the village square, pausing again to look around. He didn't like open spaces like this, they made him feel too open, too exposed. He reached to his waist, fingers curling around the small pistol that was hidden under his long coat. Cold grey eyes swept the area, searching out anything that seemed out of place. He relaxed once he deemed the are clear, and let his hand fall away from his gun, settling by his side once again.

He started across the square, still on the lookout for anything or anyone that may try to jump out at him. He was almost to the opposite side when he heard something shift behind him. Without hesitation, he turned, gun leveled.

"Who's there?" He demanded, voice low and rough. The only response he got was the faint echo of his shout around the square. He grit his teeth, looking around with narrowed eyes before slowly straightening up and slipping the gun away. Maybe he'd stop sooner than anticipated that night. There was no way hearing things was healthy. He took one last, long look around the square, his eyes lingering briefly on a large pile of rubble before he turned sharply and started down one of the narrower streets.

It was not ten steps later that Erik heard the noise once more; the faint patterning of shoes on stone. Again he turned, ready to call out whoever was following him. What he saw made him pause in confusion, the threat dying in his throat.

A small boy, who couldn't have been more than six was crouched in the middle of the street, hands covering his eyes with his head ducked. Erik tilted his head slightly, cautiously making his way over. The boy didn't react past his fingers twitching slightly. Erik watched him a moment, glancing around before shaking his head.

_No one in their right mind would let their child wander along in a town like this_, he thought, _His parents are bound to be nearby._ He cast one last glance to the child before starting on his way again, muttering crossly to himself. If he didn't have something much more important to do, he would have hunted down the boy's parents himself. But there were better things to worry about at the moment, so the child would have to find his own way home.

He had barely made it around the corner when the footsteps started up again, almost running to try and catch up. Erik turned and ducked just out of sight, watching with a small frown as the boy careened around the corner and skidded to a stop, looking around with wide blue eyes.

"Looking for someone?" Erik couldn't help but ask, stepping out of his hiding place. The boy gasped and quickly dropped down again, covering his eyes once more. Erik raised an eyebrow and chuckled despite himself, stepping in front of the boy and looking down at him. The child peeked up through his fingers for a second before covering his eyes once again with a soft gasp. Erik stood over him for a moment before huffing and hunkering down next to him.

"What are you doing?" He asked bluntly. The boy once more peeked up, frowning in confusion when he realized that his little hiding trick wasn't working with this man. He shifted and sat on the ground, legs extended out in front of him.

"Following you."

Erik blinked in surprise and leaned back, watching the boy. The child didn't seem frightened, staring up at the man with bright blue eyes.

"And why are you following me?"

"Because you're the only person around." The boy once again replied without hesitation. Erik shook his head and stood up, quickly turning away from the boy.

"I'm not. You'd best get back to your parents, it's getting late." He said, scowling up at the darkening sky. He was losing valuable time, but he couldn't bear to simply walk away from the child. There was something endearing about those too blue eyes and childish face.

The boy seemed ready to protest, scrambling to his feet and racing after Erik, tugging urgently on his sleeve.

"You can't go!" He pleaded, tears already welling in his eyes. Erik looked down and huffed, pulling his sleeve away from the boy and growling down at him.

"I have better things to do than worry about lost little boys!" He snapped, turning quickly as the boy stumbled back in surprise. There was a stiff silence between them for a moment, Erik glaring down at him, and the boy returning the glare with a trembling lip. Erik broke the silence first, waving a hand sharply.

"Off with you!" He snapped, his voice jolting the child out of his thoughts. He didn't leave, however. The command only seemed to make him more persistent, reaching up to latch onto Erik's sleeve again.

"No! You can't make me!" The boy didn't seem willing to release Erik's arm, clinging tightly to the man even as he tried to shake him loose. "I know what you are!"

This made Erik freeze, his entire body going rigid. He looked down to the boy, eyes wide and puzzled as he tried to figure out just what he had meant. Those blue eyes gave nothing away, however. The boy continued to glare up at him, tiny hands fisted in the rough material of his jacket. There was a silence between the two of them, heavy and unsure. Erik finally pulled away, shaking his head. He didn't speak, simply took off running down the street. And try as he might, the little boy simply couldn't keep up, and lost him a few blocks later.

Once he was sure he had lost the boy, Erik finally paused to catch his breath. One look at the sky told him all he needed to know. He'd wasted too much time with that child, and it wasn't safe to wander the country-side and night, even if he did have a vast array of guns hidden about his person. With a small grumble, he made his way into one of the more sturdy looking buildings to set up his camp for the night.

After lighting his fire, he idly spun his coin round his fingers, watching as the firelight glinted off of the scratched metal surface. He sighed heavily and reclined, resting his back against the wall and closing his eyes. Tomorrow would be different; he'd actually manage to make some progress, rather than waste his time trying to get rid of a lost child.

_I wasn't lost_. Erik jumped at the voice, looking around with a low growl. There was no one around, surely he would have heard them. He pushed himself up and walked into the street again, gun once more held loosely at his side. He looked around, checking all the nearby buildings as he tried to figure out where the voice had come from.

Once he'd deemed the area clear, he shook his head and retreated to the building he was using as his camp. He settled by his little fire again, staring at the flames before sighing softly and closing his eyes. He was overly tired, that was it. The voice had just been his mind working too hard for too long. He needed to sleep. He'd feel better after a good nights rest, and he hoped voice wouldn't come back for a long time.

* * *

><p><em>AN: I do not have a beta for anything but my Star Trek stories, so you'll have to forgive any grammatical or formatting mistakes there are. Anyone who's interested in beta-ing, and it willing to read a vast array of things, please let me know. A way to contact me is through my tumblr at my-angel-cant-fly, or simply through the messaging system on fanfiction._

_(Also, itener [the title] is Latin for journey, march, etc)_


	2. Communication

_The images wouldn't leave, flashing through his mind on an endless loop. Gates screeching as they bent, the rain doing nothing to muffle the sound. A gunshot. A mother on the ground, a pool of blood spreading around her head and creating a gruesome halo. Skeletons with skin stretched tight over bones walking the yard, the cries of the dying ringing day and night. The smells of decaying bodies simply pushed to the side, or the ashes of those cremated, whether or not they were dead. _

_A coin, catching the light as it turned slowly in the air. _

Erik jolted awake, breath catching in his throat and fingers scrabbling against the splintered floor. He looked around in a wild panic, eyes hazed with the last remnants of his dream and heart pounding in his chest as he tried to calm himself down. He closed his eyes again and took a deep, shuddering breath, holding it in for a brief moment before letting it out in a rush of air. His heart slowed, his fingers stilling once more at his sides.

_Just a dream_, he thought as he shook his head and sat up, _It was just a dream_.

"A very painful dream." Came a small voice from across the room. Erik jumped once again, pulling his pistol free and aiming at the source of the voice. He paused and groaned, letting his hands fall back to his lap. The same boy from the night before sat on a fallen beam, hands cupped to the sides of his head and a small frown on his face.

"What are you doing here?" Erik demanded, neglecting to ask how the boy even knew about his dream. Perhaps he'd been thrashing, or talking. Many people he'd run into had told him he did those things and more. The boy simply stared at him, slowly letting his hands fall back to his sides and sitting up a little straighter.

"I wanna go with you."

Erik rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet, carefully putting his gun away. "No." He said, not turning to face the child. Even if he had found the child more than _slightly_ endearing, he wouldn't have brought him for the fear of the child getting injured. The boy didn't seem to share this concern though, jumping down from the beam and hurrying over to once more grab hold of Erik's pant leg.

"Why not?" The boy demanded as he nearly ran to keep up with Erik's long strides, shoes echoing loudly on the cobbled streets. Erik stopped walking and looked down to the boy, his eyes darkening slightly.

"Because a child should not be in the presence of a man such as myself. Now go, return to your parents." He said, getting ready to run again. The boy stood quietly, finally having released his hold on Erik's trousers, arms now folded over his chest.

"Can't."

"Why ever not?" Erik sighed, expecting some childish answer like '_Because they're stupid_!' or '_I don't wanna!_', not what he got.

"They're dead." Erik stiffened and looked down to the boy, who was returning his gaze with a calmness far too mature for his age. Of course, why had he thought otherwise? It wasn't just his world that had been torn apart, there had been others who had suffered some of the same fates as himself. He sighed and carefully knelt in front of the boy, looking across to him.

"I cannot take you with me. My life is far more dangerous that what you have here." He said, voice much gentler than he had been expecting. The boy pouted and folded his arms over his chest defiantely.

"No, no it isn't!" He insisted, shaking his head so that his curly hair flapped in his face. "I know what you are! You can keep me safe!" Erik couldn't believe the words coming out of the boy's mouth, never mind the bright smile he was now wearing. The man stood and shook his head, thoughts now a blurred jumble as he backed away from the insistent child. He bared his teeth almost in a snarl straightened up to his full height.

"And what am I?" He growled, voice low and dangerous.

"_Like me!_" The boys voice chirped, but his lips did not move. Erik staggered back in shock, eyes widening as the boy continued to watch him expectantly. The boy's expectant expression soon fell, as he realized perhaps he'd done something wrong. Erik continued to back towards the door, his hand drifting down to his gun without permission.

"You...You're a…"

"Like you!" The boy said again, somewhat desperately. Erik stared at him a moment more before he shook his head, a little more violently than was necessary.

"No….no, you are far from what I am." He said, voice much softer and shaky than what he would have liked. When the boy seemed ready to move closer, to protest once again, Erik snapped. "Get away!" He shouted, almost pushing the boy over in his frantic attempt to get away. "Leave!"

The boy staggered back in surprise, the hope in his too blue eyes fading into despair. Fat tears bubbled up before pouring down his cheeks. He trudged over to Erik and stomped on his foot, the blow barely noticeable to the shaken man.

"You're a twat!" The boy cried, swatting angrily at his tears before racing out of the building and into the street. Erik stood with his back pressed against the wall, hands clenched at his sides and a cold chill running through his body. That boy...How, how had he known?

"No...No, don't think about it." He muttered to himself, shakily moving off the wall and gathering up his few belongings. "You have important things to do...Don't let a child get to you." Within moments he had packed up his guns, and scattered the ashes of his tiny fire. He stepped out into the streets and scowled up at the light rain that had began to fall. One thing he hated about England was it's damn weather, always cold and raining. Not that he was a fan of bright, sunny days, but the constant damp chill was enough to put a damper on anyone's spirits.

He trudged reluctantly through the rain, already missing the warmth his fire had provided the night before. The water was slowly sinking into his coat, making his clothing stick uncomfortably to his skin. He grunted and shifted his pack, ducking his head against the growing wind. Something screeched a few streets over, but Erik brushed it off as two pieces of one of the shattered buildings rubbing against one another. It was too faint to draw any real concern from the man anyways. He continued to walk, growing more and more miserable as the rain fell harder and harder.

He was debating pulling out a cigarette to distract himself when he heard the sound again. Only this time, it sounded more like a child's cry than debri. He stopped in the middle of the street and turned to look around, eyes narrowed against the rain shrouding the streets in a haze. He was about to start walking again when he heard running footsteps and voices getting nearer. Quickly, he ducked into a doorway, back to the voices as he peeked over his shoulder to see what was happening.

It suddenly went quiet, the rain masking any sounds that would have previously echoed through the streets. Erik held his breath, scanning the area with narrowed eyes. He could have sworn he'd heard something, something that hadn't been just a memory. He remained hidden in the doorway for a moment more before reluctantly stepping out, brushing a hand through his damp hair with a scowl. He reached into his pocket and freed one of the few remaining cigarettes he had left. He'd promised himself he'd quit after this pack, and he was doing his best to make it last. He lit the end with ease, blowing out a puff of smoke as he cast one last look down the street and started on his way again.

In a flurry of movement, a small shape shot between his legs, sending him stumbling off to the side of the road. Two men raced after the blur, their shouts echoing through the streets as all three vanished around the corner. Erik frowned and followed carefully after, unsure as to why he even bothered. He kept far enough behind the men that it wouldn't be obvious he was following, but he wanted to keep them at least within earshot. He paused at the corner and peeked round, frowning slightly as one of the men hoisted up a small boy...the same boy that had been there when he had woken up that morning.

Erik cursed and was ready to turn away when he heard the boy cry out. He looked back, eyes narrowing and a low growl rumbling in his chest when he saw the man holding the boy had struck him, leaving an angry red mark on the sobbing child's cheek. Without thought, Erik turned the corner and cleared his throat.

"Is something the matter here, gentlemen?" He asked, voice cool and calm. The two men turned, puzzled by the figure's sudden appearance.

"Little street rat jus' stole one of our wallets." The man further away replied. Erik raised an eyebrow and nodded, hands tucked into his pockets, for the moment.

"So you believe you have the rights to strike him?"

"Course! Thieves, no matter 'ow little deserve what's comin' to 'em!" The other man replied, almost proudly. The boy sniffled and tried to wiggle free, only to receive another slap. Erik stiffened at his yelp, slowly withdrawing his hands from his pockets.

"Even a child who is struggling to survive?" He asked, raising one hand. The man frowned as the buttons on his jacket began to tremble and tug against their places. "A child who has lost their family to senseless violence?" The man paused as he felt himself being lifted by the button, barely hovering so that the tips of his boots barely brushed the ground. He'd dropped the child by this point, eyes wide and attention focused on the man slowly walking towards them. The child scurried to stand behind Erik, hands resting lightly on his legs as he watched with a tilted head.

"Now, I'm going to put you down, alright?" Erik said, speaking slowly and carefully. "And you're just going to walk away, is that clear?"

"I ain't goin' anywhere till that brat gives me my wallet back!" The man growled, thrashing to try to free himself from his jacket and pointing to the boy. Erik growled and raised his hand more, causing the man to hover farther off the ground.

"The child does not have to return anything to you. I believe whatever in your wallet is now compensation for whatever trauma you caused the poor thing." The boy still hiding behind him nodded quickly, fighting back his smile and trying his best to look intimidating, though he only came off as mildly annoyed.

The suspended man growled and nodded slowly. "Alright, fine." He spat after a long silence, and Erik let him fall without much grace. The taller man stuck his hands back into his pockets and smiled darkly, the image more reminiscent of a shark rather than a man as he offered out a hand to the boy by his leg. The boy took the hand with a smirk and followed behind the man with almost a proud strut.

A few streets over Erik stopped, kneeling in front of the boy and looking over him carefully, making sure he was uninjured.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, looking up to meet bright blue eyes. The boy nodded and smiled reassuringly.

"They didn't do anything, if that's what you're wondering." He murmured, shrugging slightly. Erik nodded and relaxed, settling back onto the street and watching the boy curiously. There was silence between the two of them, but it was comfortable.

"Do you have a name?" Erik asked, a dumb question but valid none the less. The boy giggled and nodded, hopping up to sit on a fallen beam.

"Of course I do!" He giggled, looking over to Erik. The man blinked in surprise, then bit back a smile.

"And might I have the privilege of knowing what it is?"

The boy thought for a moment, pouting and crossing his arms over his chest. Erik couldn't help but feel anxious, waiting for the boy's decision.

"Charles," He spoke at last, smiling warmly. "Charles Xavier."

* * *

><p><em>AN: Still no beta, so I apologize if anything seems odd. Putting out the offer that if anyone's interested, I've got a spot open. There are some questions, though. So if you'd like to get in contact with me, you can do so either through PM, or through my tumblr at my-angel-cant-fly_


	3. By the Fire

"Charles, for God's sake eat the damn latkes!"

"They look weird!"

"They are fried potatoes, Charles!" Erik groaned in exasperation, rolling his eyes and putting the plate he'd been trying to pass off to the child in front of him for the past half hour. The latkey sat limply now, cold and untouched, but that wasn't about to stop him. He couldn't understand why this boy refused to eat something so simple. It wasn't as if it smelt odd, and while it was much less than what Erik was used to, it was a hearty dish.

Charles on the other hand sat there, arms crossed defiantly, blue eyes staring obstinately at Erik's, having none of the situation. They'd left the town not too long after the incident with the two men, and Erik, in his opinion, had been nothing but difficult. The man had taken his time checking the boy over for any hidden injuries before deciding to take him along for at least one night, or at least he found someone else who would take care of the child. Erik seemed incapable of simply listening to Charles. Charles didn't want to go with someone else. He wanted to stay with Erik.

"Make me something else." Charles said at last, refusing to look at the plate that was sitting in front of him.

"Well we don't have anything else at the moment."

"Want something else!" The boy shrieked, causing Erik to jump and cover his ears. He scowled at the boy and picked up the plate, holding it out again.

"Charles, I'm going to say this one more time. Eat your dinner, or else you won't be getting anything to eat until we leave in the morning." This seemed to make Charles hesitant, and the boy slowly reached for the plate before drawing away and wrinkling his nose.

"No!" He snapped, nose turned up again. Erik slammed the plate down and growled as he pushed himself to his feet and moved away from the small ring of light cast by their little fire.

"Why must you be so difficult!" He shouted, turning to look back at Charles. The boy was staring back at him with wide eyes, tears already threatening to spill. Erik didn't notice though, too wrapped up in his own agitation. "All I asked was that you eat one. One simple, measly, little latke!"

Charles sniffled softly and wiped his eyes, looking down to his hands. Erik stared at him and clenched his hands, growling softly and shaking his head. Without warning, the metal at the camp began to rattle and shake, a fork even lifting off the plate it had been resting on. Charles shrunk away, eyes widening before he lost it and began to bawl. Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and he threw his hands up to cover his face. Erik immediately froze, the camp falling silent save for the boy's sobbing.

"Charles...Charles, I'm sorry." He said softly, making his way over and kneeling in front of the boy. He took the boy's small hands and looked up, trying and failing to sooth the sobbing boy. He didn't know why he felt to guilty, it wasn't as if he hadn't done worse to others. But something about Charles, how the boy seemed to put all of his trust into someone he'd only just met, and knew next to nothing about.

Eventually the boy settled down, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand and staring at the fire. He refused to look at Erik, even when the man offered to try and find something else for the boy to eat. Charles simply shook his head and sat still, sniffling softly to himself. Erik sighed and moved away, once more standing outside of the warmth radiating from the fire.

While his back was turned, Charles looked up and chewed his lip before leaning forward to take the plate with the latkes. He sniffed them curiously before taking a hesitant bite. He hummed in surprise, the noise barely reaching the air as he tucked into the surprisingly good meal. Erik was unaware of the boy's actions, and was surprised when he heard a small voice speak up behind him.

"Done."

He turned with a puzzled frown, tilting his head. Charles sat up, holding out the empty plate with a tiny smile. Erik blinked in surprise before he chuckled, shaking his head as he walked over and took the plate.

"Was that so hard?" He asked. Charles shook his head and looked down to his hands, worrying his lower lip between his teeth.

"They were good." The boy murmured, almost regretfully. "I...I'm sorry I didn't believe you." Erik set the plate down again and once more settled in front of the boy.

"And I'm sorry I frightened you. It was not my intention."

Charles frowned and reached up, tiny arms wrapping around Erik's neck in a hug. Erik stiffened in surprise, nearly throwing the boy up and over his shoulder before he caught himself and forced himself still.

"It's okay." Charles said softly, yawning into Erik's neck and nuzzling down. "I know you didn't mean it."

Erik frowned in confusion, hesitantly wrapping his arms around the boy and standing up. He didn't understand how Charles could be so forgiving, but knew now wasn't the time to ask about it. Instead, he carried the boy over to his sleeping roll and carefully tucked him in.

"Sleep well, Charles. We'll be off again in the morning."


	4. Memories

Erik woke early the next morning, making sure to scatter the remains of their little fire before packing up the few items he'd left around camp the night before. He looked down to Charles, who was still sound asleep in the sleeping roll far too large for his tiny body. Erik didn't want to wake the boy, but he was already almost a day behind his original schedule and couldn't afford to waste anymore time. Reluctantly he knelt beside the sleeping child and lightly shook his shoulder, earning an annoyed whine.

"Charles, get up. We need to leave now." He said gently, and in a voice that surprised him. He rarely spoke, but when he did it was not gentle. Never the less, he shook his head and brushed the gentleness off as a product of being around Charles. His attention returned to the boy, Erik once more shook his shoulder and sighed. "Charles, now."

The boy grumbled and scrubbed at his eyes, rolling over and shivering as the cool morning air slipped into the warm cocoon of the sleeping roll. He clutched the edge of the roll tightly, forcing the slight gap shut and whining once again.

"Don't wanna get up." He grumbled, pulling the roll up to his ears and closing his eyes again. Erik couldn't help but smile at the endearing action, thankful that Charles couldn't see him. He'd spent years perfecting his stoney exterior, and he'd be damned if some child shattered it.

"We've spent enough time here, Charles. We need to move." Erik said after a moment, drawing back the edge of the roll and earning a squeaked protest from the curled up child beneath. He looked down and sighed heavily, scooping the boy up and setting him on his feet. "There's a plate sitting by my bags. Eat up, we won't be resting until noon."

Charles glanced over at the plate and sighed, wrapping his arms around himself and stamping over to pick it up and plop down on the ground to eat. Erik occupied himself by packing up the sleeping roll and the few last minute items he'd left out while Charles slept. He'd already eaten a slight breakfast, not having the stomach for anything large. This was not the case for Charles though, who after he finished set the plate down and looked expectantly up to Erik.

"I'm still hungry."

"We don't have time for you to eat anything else, Charles." Erik sighed, shouldering his pack and looking around them, trying to remember what direction he'd been walking in the day before. Charles pouted behind him, but none the less carefully scraped the crumbs off of his plate and set it in one of the smaller bags, which he then shouldered.

"Where are we going?"

"Manchester."

"That's really far though. Mummy...Mummy always took me by train if we ever went." He said, glancing back over his shoulder at the barely visible ruins of the village. The boy sniffled softly and rubbed his eyes, shaking his head and facing forward again. Erik looked down to him and placed a gentle and on the boy's shoulder, thumb brushing gently over the worn fabric.

"I know it is, but we have no other choice." The man said, steering Charles back onto the path and following behind. "If we get to a town in time to catch a train, then we'll take one." This seemed to settle the boy down, and he nodded with a smile.

"Alright, that seems fair." Charles said, kicking at a pebble as he walked, the bag with the plates and pans clattering loudly with his bouncing steps. Several times Erik tried to reach down and pry the bag from the boy's hands, only to receive a childish scolding. Eventually he gave up and allowed Charles to do as he pleased.

The hours slowly ticked by, the sun finally breaking through the clouds to dry the earth and warm the two travelers. Erik was unfazed by the walk despite the sun shining in his eyes, having been used to much more in much worse conditions. Charles on the other hand, had barely been able to handle a day of leisurely walking about the town before the bombing, and the march had taken a sudden and harsh toll on the boy.

He set the now impossibly heavy bag down on a drier patch of ground and rested his hands on his knees, taking several deep breaths and trying to stretch out the stitches in his sides and legs. Erik had walked past him, lost in his thoughts. After a moment the man finally noticed that Charles was no longer in front of him, and turned around in confusion.

"I can't go any further." Charles said as soon as he was sure Erik was looking at him. The older man sighed and walked the few steps back, picking up the bag before too much mud could soak into the fabric.

"We have another two hours before we can stop for lunch, Charles. You'll be fine until then." He said with a small huff. Charles frowned at him and tried to hurry after, whining softly at the pain shooting through his feet.

"I can't!" The boy insisted, finally managing to grab hold of Erik's sleeve and tug tightly on it. The man stopped and looked back with a small frown, jerking his sleeve free and growling softly.

"Well you're going to have to. I have enough to carry without you here. If you can't keep up, you're staying behind. Someone else can help you." The man snapped, patience worn thin. Charles staggered back in surprise and blinked, tilting his head and sniffling. Erik glanced down and rolled his eyes. "Don't you start with that either. I've had just about enough of your sniveling." He hadn't even realized just how much he'd begun to sound like Shaw, the words coming as easily as breathing.

Charles stared at him for a moment, hands slowly clenching at his sides as Erik started to walk off. The boy sniffled softly again, feeling something bubbling in his chest.

_Don't go!_

Erik stumbled in shock, hands flying up to his ears. He looked around frantically, gun already in his hand, though he had no idea when it had gotten there. He spun in place, staggering again as the voice continued to boom in his ears, piercing into his mind and sending him to the ground.

Erik wasn't sure when the noise had stopped, or how long he'd been curled up on the ground. It took him several moments to realize it had gone quiet again, that the only sound around him was the sounds of birds chirping and a light breeze ruffling the tall grass surrounding the road. Slowly he sat up, hands pressed to the sides of his head to try and stop the throbbing headache that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

"Erik…?"

The man looked up quickly, leveling his gun at the chest of the figure before him. Charles stumbled away in a panic, fresh tears rising in his eyes. The boy quickly turned and scrambled a few feet away before wrapping his arms around himself and staring down at the gun. Erik blinked out of his thoughts and dropped the gun, the weapon clattering to the dirt road. The man moved slowly to Charles, scooping him up and holding the boy close.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry." He said softly, rubbing the sobbing child's back. Charles wiggled for a moment, small hands pressed to Erik's chest as he tried to push away. Reluctantly the man set the child down and stepped back, hands held up. Charles rocked on his heels for a moment, wiping his eyes before he looked up and walked forward, stooping to pick up the gun before holding it out to Erik. The man hesitantly took the weapon and placed it back in its holster.

"Thank you, Charles." He muttered, surprised at how shaky his voice had suddenly become. He cleared his throat and straightened up, adjusting the packs on his back before turning down the road. "A little further and then we can stop for lunch, alright?" He asked, a tiny smile tugging at his lips when Charles nodded and hurried to walk alongside him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Charles said suddenly, staring down at the ground and kicking at a pebble. Erik looked down and sighed heavily, hand resting on the strap of one of his packs.

"You must learn to control yourself, Charles. I know you didn't mean to, but you could have done much more than you intended."

Charles bit his lip and looked up, wringing his hands in front of himself. He was silent and Erik nearly lost himself in his thoughts before the boy looked up and spoke.

"I know, and I try but...I thought you were going to hurt me."

Erik stopped and looked down to the boy with a tilted head. He knew he could be frightening, but he never realized it was that bad. Of course he'd hurt many people before, but never a child. Children and women were the two people Erik had sworn he'd never hurt unless it was the only option, and even then it was debatable. Once more he set the packs down and knelt beside the boy, hands going up to rest on slim shoulders.

"I would never, Charles. Surely you must know that." He said, a hint of desperation creeping into his voice. He couldn't have the one person who knew what he was and wasn't terrified, or wasn't going to use him for just his powers leave. Especially when that person was a child who apparently had no one and no where to go.

"I do but...I can't help it."

"Why can't you, Charles?"

The boy was quiet for several moments before he let out a shuddering breath and looked down. "It's nothing."

"Charles…"

"I don't want to talk about it." The boy snapped, stamping his foot and turning away to sulk. Erik blinked in surprise and tilted his head, watching the child for a moment before sighing and reaching out to him again.

"Charles, please. I only want to help you." The words tasted foreign in his mouth, and Erik hadn't even realized he'd said them until after Charles had turned to look at him with wide eyes. He'd meant the words, of course but he never thought he'd say them out loud. For all the boy knew, Erik was just going to get him to the next town and leave him with whichever woman seemed fit to take care of a six-year old boy with a gift. Erik hadn't even realized Charles had begun to talk until the boy tugged at his sleeve with a small whine.

"You aren't listening to me."

"I'm sorry Charles. Start again?"

The boy bit his lip, suddenly still and quiet. Erik frowned in concern and settled down in front of him, ignoring the mud seeping into his trousers.

"Charles…"

"I don't want to tell you." The boy said at last, looking up with wide eyes. Erik clenched his hands at his sides and sighed heavily, getting ready to stand again before Charles grabbed his arm. "But I can show you." Skeptical as he was, Erik nodded.

"Alright, but make it quick please. We need to move."

Charles frowned at him and hesitated before raising a small hand to rest two fingers to Erik's temple. The man flinched away at the touch at first, uncertainty in his eyes before he leaned forward again and allowed Charles to do as he pleased.

There was silence between the two of them before images began flashing through Erik's mind. At first they were too fast to see, only flashes of moments and feelings. After a moment the images slowed, moving just slow enough for Erik to make out some words.

_Freak._

_Abomination._

_The only reason I'm letting you stay is because of your mother you little brat._

Erik frowned at the words, and even though he couldn't make out the images flying past his eyes, he knew they were directed at Charles. Things that were very similar were said to him, in almost the exact same voice. As soon as Erik had begun to drift off, a sudden sharp pain flashed through his mind, feeling exactly like a strike across the face. The man jolted in surprise, breaking his connection with Charles as he did.

Erik sat, panting in the dirt as he watched the boy sway and stumble, drained from his use of power. Slowly, the man stood and walked over to Charles, scooping the boy into his arms and holding him carefully. Before long, Charles had gone limp, the exhaustion having taken it's toll on his body. Wordlessly, Erik gathered the rest of the bags and started on his march again, all the while cradling Charles close to his chest and mindlessly rubbing the boy's back.


	5. Shielding

_A shadow appeared in the doorway, standing straight against the light filtering from the hall. The small boy shrunk away from the figure, pressing back against the wall. He watched silently as the socked feet walked straight past his hiding place, stopping just out of his sight._

"Charles. Come out now." The man's voice was sickly sweet, but the boy knew better than to go towards it. The silence in the room was shattered when the man turned and kicked over a tower of books that Charles had spent time putting in the proper order.

"You damn brat! Get out here before I drag you out from whereever you're hiding you ungrateful little shi-"

Charles couldn't wait for him to finish, and carefully slipped out of his current hiding place. He blinked when he realized the man's back was to him, and without thinking bolted down the grand stairs of the estate. He was almost to the front door when his absence was finally noticed. The figure appeared at the top of the stairs, face red and livid with anger.

With one final glance over his shoulder, the boy raced out into the frigid night air.

"Charles...Charles, are you alright?"

The voice was much gentler than that in his dream, and the boy whined in confusion. Erik sighed softly and once more shook the boy's shoulder. He hated to wake him, especially after his collapse on the road earlier, but the way the child had been tossing and whimpering had begun worry him.

"Charles, come on...Eyes open."

Finally, the boy looked up and tilted his head, surprised to feel tears still streaming down his cheeks. He stared up at Erik for several moments, trying to figure out why he was out in the middle of the country with a man who was very much not his step-father.

While he sat in quiet contemplation, Erik offered out a plate heaped with food. "There was a farmhouse nearby," he explained with a small shrug, "I'm sure they won't miss a few measly things."

Charles nodded and took the plate, mumbling a 'thank-you' before starting to eat. Erik watched him for a moment, unable to help his concern before he sighed and turned away.

"There's a town nearby...We should reach it by nightfall." He said, and when he realized Charles wasn't listening, he lightly nudged the boy's side. "There's a train."

"A train?" Charles repeated, looking up with a small tilt of his head. Erik smiled gently and nodded.

"Yes. We'll have to spend the night when we arrive, but come morning we can take the first train to Manchester."

Satisfied with the idea of not having to walk anymore, Charles nodded and seemed to brighten up. He began to hum a childish tune as he ate, occasionally pausing to prod at the dirt beneath himself or to look up at the sky with curiosity. Erik kept a close eye on him, trying to pick the proper moment to bring up the explosion of power that had come out of the boy.

"Charles?"

The boy hummed in acknowledgement and looked up mid-bite, head tilted slightly to the side and cheeks bulging with food. Erik smiled warmly at him and chuckled once more, something he'd been doing more and more recently when with the boy.

"Earlier...Do you…." He paused and cleared his throat, looking up to the boy. "Do you often react like that?"

Charles looked down and bit his lip, bright expression falling quickly. "Never," he replied with a shake of the head, "that...that's the first time I've ever done that."

Erik sighed and nodded, moving over and lightly rubbing the boy's shoulder. "It's alright, Charles. I'm not upset I...I was simply curious." Silence fell over the pair again as they both focused on their individual activities; Charles eating and Erik keeping an eye on the road.

"It hurts, you know." Charles said, in a voice far too mature for one his age. Erik looked over his shoulder at the boy and frowned slightly.

"What hurts?"

"Hearing all of these other voices...I-I can't hear myself think sometimes. I hear so many bad things and I don't like it. There are times where I just want it all to stop, where I want nothing to do with it anymore."

This last statement is what drew Erik back to the boy's side, kneeling once more beside Charles with his hands on both of the boy's shoulders.

"No. You don't. Your gift is something...something incredible, Charles. Do not forsake it."

"People thought I was crazy," Charles protested, "they were going to send me off for tests...I don't like tests."

Erik stiffened at this, unintentionally digging his nails into Charles' shoulders. The boy whined in pain and pulled away, reaching up a hand to massage at the fabric. Erik was staring past him, eyes distant as he tried to force back the images of Shaw, of the tools that hung in perfect lines on the wall. It took him several moments to pull himself out of his thoughts, and another minute to realize that he was shaking. Charles was standing by his side, frowning in concern and reaching a hesitant hand out. Erik stood before contact could be made, clearing his throat and shaking his head.

"Well you don't have to worry about tests now, Charles. There will be none of that while I'm around." This seemed the calm the boy enough for him to finally agree to get up and help pack up the few things that Erik had removed from his bag when they'll settled down. Erik paused as he lifted a bag, looking down to Charles with a tilted head.

"You said it hurts, didn't you? The thoughts of others."

Charles looked up and nodded slowly, tilting his head slightly at Erik.

"I did, yes."

Setting down the bag once again, Erik stood in front of Charles and hummed.

"You can hear my thoughts now, correct?" He waited for a nod of confirmation before continuing. "I want you to just think about your own thoughts. Try to focus all of your attention on them, rather than mine. Like you're trying to drown out a storm outside. I want you to tell me when my thoughts get softer, or when you can't hear them anymore."

Charles stared at him before nodding, closing his eyes and tensing up. Erik watched him and shook his head, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Relax, Charles. Tensing like that won't help you."

Again, the boy nodded. His shoulders sagged and he let out a soft puff of air. Erik watched his face, trying to catch some sort of sign that the boy was succeeding. After a moment of silence between the two, Charles let out an irritated growl.

"I can't do it." He announced, looking up to Erik with tears in his eyes. "I...I can't make them stop."

The older man sighed and scooped Charles into his arm, balancing the boy on his hip as he cast one final look over their brief camp.

"Don't fret, Charles. You'll learn to soon enough." He assured, starting back on the road. Charles sighed and nodded, though it was clear from his expression that he didn't believe a word of Erik's reassurance. Never the less, throughout the walk he'd occasionally close his eyes and try to will the only other voice away.

After his fifth attempt, he noticed that Erik's thoughts had become softer, though they were still just barely audible to the boy. Proud of his success, Charles wiggled in Erik's arms, only to notice the man's distant expression. With a small pout, Charles simply rested his head against the man's shoulder and stared down the way they had come, wondering when they'd finally reach the town Erik had promised.


End file.
